Hotwired
by Katnibellamione
Summary: More of my Victor Series! This time, we look at the District 3 Victors, from the perspective of Beetee Latier. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: 36th Reaping

**Chapter 1: 36th Reaping**

I study the flow of the blue sparkles as I connect the charged wire to the switchboard. The flow of electricity astounds me. At least I am fortunate to live in a district devoted to technology and will allow me to do what I love.

Except for a good portion of today. My name is Beetee Latier. I am 15 years old. And today is the Reaping for the 36th Annual Hunger Games, a sick competition in which all twelve districts of Panem send one boy and girl of teenage years into an outdoor arena to fight to the death. The last tribute standing wins and becomes a Victor who mentors future tributes.

I have to leave my precious science building at the school and stand in the square in front of the Justice Building for a few hours. Peacekeepers escort our pitiful two Victors to the stage. District 3 is generally viewed as weak, and this is only furthered by the fact that our only two successful tributes were relatively recent.

"The Victor of the 31st Hunger Games: Honorius Perthshire!" Honorius, the handsome youth of 23 who was crowned five years ago, stands and waves to the crowd.

"The Victor of the 32nd Hunger Games: Fawn Odinshoot!" Fawn is only a year younger than her immediate predecessor and mentor, but she smiles at the cheers. We may have only two Victors, but they won back-to-back, something that usually only the Career districts - Districts 1 and 2 who train their tributes illegally and win most of the time - have done.

And then our district escort is taking over for the Mayor. She selects from the Girls' Ball first. "Coake Underwind!" A girl of 18 takes the stage. Then, its the boys' turn. "Beetee Latier!"

The Peacekeepers seize me and haul me up to the stage almost in glee. 15-year-old Victors have been very rare in these last three and a half decades. And no one underneath that age has ever won the Games. Ever.

I'm probably going to die.

And this is made all the more final when, after only my parents visit me, their only child, Coake and Honorius and Fawn and I are forced onto the train and away from District 3. Probably forever.

* * *

Honorius and Fawn are not bad mentors. They serve the purpose well of tasking themselves with on gender each, so Honorius will be coaching me. Though still young, he seems a lot older compared to me; I seem like a baby by comparison. But Honorius is nice, almost big brotherly, as he gives me sage advice to hide my science skills from the other tributes. I don't know how much my science skills will play necessarily, but perhaps my mind in general could. To beat your enemy, you have to understand them.

The Capitol is a madhouse when we get there. Why they pay attention to us, I don't know; perhaps they're obligated to. Only Districts 6 and 12 have Victory records worse than us, having one only once apiece. We're not much better off; why should the press bother with us?

But, we meet our stylists anyway and are soon directed into the chariots that will lead us through the Tributes' Chariot Parade in the City Circle. After that is done and the speech by the President, Honorius and Fawn whisk us into the Training Center.

We begin training the next day. Right away, I see little hope for me, and even for Coake. All the Careers are even bigger than her at three years my senior, and a lot bigger than me. The rest of the field looks pretty weak. The exception are the tributes from District 4. But against the Careers, I don't stand a chance.

After three days, we show our skills privately to the Gamemakers. I show them my expertise in electricity by essentially rewiring the circuits for the entire building and then replacing them again. I get a 9 for my efforts, putting me with the Careers. I wonder if it surprised them. Probably not.

The fourth and final day and night is devoted to the Tribute Interviews with TV host Caesar Flickerman. When he asks me how I plan to win in the arena, I simply say that as long as I have my mind, that is all I need. It is a vague response, and I feel that no one should find it threatening or even in any way ominous, but Caesar takes it, and all too soon, my three minutes of fame are up.

I fall into a fitful sleep that night.


	2. Chapter 2: The Arena

**Chapter 2: The Arena**

At 10:00 sharp the next morning, I come up into an abandoned college campus of brick pathways kissed by sunlight. I raise my eyebrow in interest. It is as if this arena was made especially for me. Now if only I could find the science building...

For I remember the words Honorius spoke to me when we said goodbye on the roof of the Training Center, before the hovercraft: _Run, Beetee. Just run._

So I do. When the gong sounds, I take off to an imposing building to my left, moving away from the Cornucopia horn and the cries of battle already emanating from there.

It must have been newer than the other buildings here, because it seems more modern and even more... Capitol in its aesthetic. Reading nooks, sleek walls and floors. I take off down a hallway to my left, and find... science classrooms! I bolt myself inside, anxious to see if what I need is here.

And I find what I need. In spades. Locking myself in, I immediately set to work. I don't have a weapon, but if I get enough time, I probably won't need one. For I am creating a weapon all my own...

* * *

By the end of the first day, the cannons have petered out. But there were many of them, having gone on throughout the day. Still, I stay in my science classroom, busy at work. I soon begin to forget that I am even in the Hunger Games and instead imagine myself back in my school in District 3.

17 tributes die the first day. We bypass the Final 8, but just barely. The survivors are exactly whom I expected them to be: the Careers, plus District 4 in an alliance. Probably. I don't know this for certain, but I would bet money on it.

I soon confirm it, a few days later, when the Careers enter the science building. They are hunting for me, no doubt, wondering how one measly little District 3 tribute could get away. I hide and the Careers are too stupid to check the doors, or even investigate the rooms. My weapon is not ready yet, but it will be soon. I just need a little more time...

I get it. The Careers start to get bored and just hang around the science building for a few days. They seem, from my limited observations, to be becoming friends. Almost like they don't want to kill each other, as it will have to come down to.

It just makes my job easier.

When my trap is finally ready, the Careers have set up a campfire in the main entrance hall, where students likely used to congregate. Slipping out of my science classroom in the dead of night, while they are asleep, I set my trap.

Then, come morning on what I judge to be the sixth day, I flip the switch.

All six tributes die by electrocution instantly. It takes the cameras a moment to find me, hidden among the wooden benches, and an even longer, more embarrassing silence follows. I feel the need to come out and stand over the dead, to clearly show that I am the Victor. At last, a humiliated Claudius Templesmith announces my Victory:

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winner of the 36th Annual Hunger Games: Beetee Latier of District 3!"


	3. Chapter 3: 46th and 58th Reapings

**Chapter 3: 46th and 58th Reapings**

Honorius is very pleased when I come back alive. I have my final interview with Caesar, the Victory Crown is placed on my head by a President who seems chastened, and I return home with Honorius and Fawn.

I set up a kind of laboratory in my mansion in Victors' Village. Here is where I spend most of my time, working and studying. Except during Games season every summer, when I have to mentor. Honorius and I work out a system in which we alternate who coaches. Poor Fawn has to go no matter what. She needs to produce a female heir.

And she finally gets one, ten years after I win. Wiress Plummer was only a small child when I triumphed. But I knew even then that she was intelligent. When the 46th Hunger Games start, she hides and remains so until the Top Two, when she skewers the surviving Career from 1 with a garrote she fashioned herself.

* * *

A dozen years after that, another Victor from District 3 comes along. He will turn out to be our last. Yohan Fairban is only 15, just as when I was Reaped. For the 58th Hunger Games, he too hides until the Top Two. But so does the boy from District 5, as that district's tributes are well known for hiding. Yohan actually gets the drop on a boy three years older than him and bashes his weakened enemy's head in against a rock. He is crowned Victor.

With a decently healthy crop, I now share mentoring duties with Honorius and Yohan. Fawn and Wiress trade off. All of us follow the Victors' Code forbidding attachments and especially marriage from Victors.


	4. Chapter 4: 75th Reaping

**Chapter 4: 75th Reaping**

All too soon, it is time for the announcement of the twist for the Third Quarter Quell. My fellow Victors and I are planning a big party for the year after, to celebrate the 40th anniversary of my win.

At least until the President says the tributes will be Reaped from "existing pools of Victors."

After almost four decades, I could go back into the arena a second time.

Thank goodness District 3's Reaping will be better than most. All of us are still alive. Honorius and Fawn are only just in their sixties (62 and 61, respectively) and though most Victors don't live to see 70, they could both make a go of it. Wiress is only 45. Yohan is 32, still a baby, but he needs a chance to possibly live on, maybe break the Code and have a family, if that's what he wants.

I was a toddler when Indigo Weaver of District 8 won fifty years ago; I don't remember it. And I was already a Victor for many years when Haymitch Abernathy of District 12 pulled off an epic win twenty-five years ago. But I have a feeling this Quell will be the worst yet.

* * *

When Reaping Day dawns and my name is called, I shoot both Honorius and Yohan a look not to volunteer. Wiress is drafted to be my district partner. Good. District 3 is putting its best foot forward. Or at least, most protective.

Most of the other Victors Reaped are younger than me, save for three: Mags, an 80-year-old from 4, Woof, a 75-year-old grandpa from 8, and Seeder, a sixty-something from 11. Wiress has three others in their forties join her, who all won around her time: Brutus, a volunteer from District 2, Daniel Bernhardt of 9 and Chaff from 11. Haymitch Abernathy is Reaped for 12, but replaced by the boy he helped save last year, Peeta Mellark. Everyone else is younger than us; Johanna Mason and the tributes from District 10 are just babies. And District 12's Star-Crossed Lovers are still of Reaping age.

The Chariot rides go by in a blur, and I try to ignore how Wiress and I are stylized as switchboards. Yohan and Fawn, our mentors, must not be pleased (we left Honorius behind at home) but neither says anything as we are moved into the brand new Training Center.

I have no hope against bigger tributes who have coached and trained for years. The Careers are a lot smarter than the ones I dealt with. Wiress and I stick to remembering simple things like starting a fire.

"You should rub your hands first." Katniss Everdeen, the beauty from District 12 who won that odd co-Victory last year rubs her hands together. My stick lights right up with smoke. In return, Wiress shows her the force field protecting the Gamemakers. Katniss admits this is her fault; she shot an arrow at them last year.

"There's always a flaw in the system," I tell her.

Three days must not impress the Gamemakers of District 3, for my hotwiring skills only get me a 6 this time. Wiress nets a 5; she does worse than she did almost thirty years ago.

The fourth and last day is interview prep. When I see even the Careers expressing subtle displeasure at being handed over to the Games a second time, I know what I am about to do is right. Wiress's interview is a painful series of fits and starts; she can't seem to talk in complete sentences, reminiscent of an Autistic child or long-ago Trump supporter. I wonder if being Reaped again has traumatized her. Then it's my turn.

"Beetee, you have contributed so much to Panem over the years. I don't know who we're going to miss more: you or your brain," Caesar jokes.

"The Quarter Quells were written into law by men. Certainly they can be unwritten." I reply. That is literally all I say.

Caesar looks totally befuddled, like a historical Trump supporter presented with facts. The Capitol audience is at a loss too, but they're so vapid, I don't expect them to get it. An Autistic child could understand what I just said. Even the most unrefined Seam miner of District 12 could understand. But not the Capitol. So Caesar murmurs, "Interesting concept," and my time is up.

Katniss and Peeta light the fuse on a bomb that has been building for hours. And though the interviews end in chaos and the Games are still on, I go to bed feeling more hopeful than ever.


	5. Chapter 5: The Quell

**Chapter 5: The Quell**

For the first time in nearly forty years, I rise up into the arena to find a jungle wasteland. The tribute pedestals are in the water, separated by rocky spokes leading to an island that houses the Cornucopia. We are in the middle of a miniature sea.

I remember Haymitch's words about protecting his kids at any cost. I remember Plutarch Heavensbee telling me there was a plan that depended on me.

So, even though I cannot swim, even though I don't know if I can even reach the island, I leap into the water when the gong goes off, ignoring Blight Jordan of District 7. I have to survive the Bloodbath.

My passable doggy paddle helps me reach shore. But by the time I get there, a few bodies lie dead and the Careers are already hacking away at others.

Deep in, close to the horn, I can see a spool of wire. That must be it! I am just reaching for it, diving for it, when -

"Gahhh!" I scream as Enobaria, the woman from 2, plunges a knife into my back. Amazingly, the blow doesn't kill me, and then I hear more feminine screaming. It doesn't sound like Katniss...

I feel hands pick me up. What? What is going on? "Come on, old man!" Whoever just said that was a woman and it wasn't Katniss...

The woman is yelling at a few people next to her to keep up as we run away from the island. Looking to my left as we bounce along, I can see a terrified Wiress being guided along by the hand by...

Blight Jordan.

Districts 3 and 7 in an alliance. This ought to be fun.

* * *

We make camp deep in the jungle. By the end of the first day, eight have died, but District 12 made it out alive. Good.

I study the wire long into the night. It seems... familiar somehow... Johanna rustles us up some late-night food. She then offers to take first watch as the rest of us go to sleep.

At what I judge to be about 1 in the morning, the sky opens up on us.

But this is no ordinary rain. By the light of the moon, I can see the red staining my arena jumpsuit...

This isn't rain. This is blood.

Johanna is swearing and cursing as we break camp helter-shelter. She's quite a charming woman... in a stubborn, irritating kind of way. In the confusion of choking on the blood falling from the skies, we pause to hear a Crackle and see a body fly past us. Blight ran right into the force field. I knew there'd be one. I just didn't expect it to be this close. That Blight hit it is unfortunately not a surprise. He's young, 30s, a peer of Yohan's. And not the sharpest tool in the shed.

Johanna leaves little time to mourn, getting Wiress and I out of there, now all alone. All the while, Wiress is repeating "Tick Tock!" It takes me about a minute to figure it out. If you know a person with mental illness long enough, a seemingly innocuous phrase can mean the same thing to you as it does to them.

Blood red as bricks and soaked through, we reach the beach by morning. The Careers show no signs of life from the island in the distance. Are they even there?

"Johanna!" A figure comes running up.

"Finnick!" Johanna embraces the fisherman from 4, and even chastely kisses him, the way a platonic friend might. And who should be right behind Odair, but the Star-Crossed Lovers themselves.

We swap tales of blood and fog, but I am paying more attention to my wire, my District partner and keeping myself cool. It is only mid-morning, but already brutally hot. "Do you have fresh water?" I ask of Peeta.

He replies that they do, but they need to use a tool to get it. Meanwhile, I hear female voices escalating, see Wiress fall back into the sand, but she looks OK. Finnick drags Johanna away to calm her down, and when that doesn't work, he simply dunks her. Now why didn't I think of that?

Our two trios merge into one big alliance and we take the island unopposed. No Career guard seems a little odd, but there are only weapons here. All the same, I get the strangest premonition that this is a trap.

Turns out, as the others learn from Wiress (someone figured it out!) that the arena's a clock and are drawing a map in the sand, I was right.

The Careers attack without warning, killing my partner and there is nothing I can do to stop it. But the others resoond in kind, taking District 1 clear out of the Games and giving chase to District 2. And the girls would catch them too, if the arena itself didn't start spinning.

After we slam to a stop, we regroup on the beach. I have kept careful count to know that we are already at the Final Eight: us five, District 2 and Chaff from 11. I did not even have to work to reach the Final Eight forty years ago almost, and have done it again on the backs of more battle proficient tributes. I am the surprise entry, who will likely go next. Every other tribute left alive in this arena, to a man and a woman, is younger than me; Brutus and Chaff are the only ones who come anywhere close. I'm 54 years old. Against the others, I stand little chance.

Unless I reveal my plan.

I tell the others that it is a plan to electrocute the Careers. Since most are well aware of how I won my Games, the others sign on immediately. Johanna is a little reluctant, but agrees to go along.

And who knows? Maybe we'll nab Chaff in the bargain.

* * *

Close to midnight, we approach the Lightning Tree. With minimal charring, it is an impressive conductor, and I voice this to the others. I wonder if the bark is fake.

But I can see it is not as I wrap the wire I invented around the tree. I then direct the girls to run the wire down to the beach. Peeta resists but finally agrees to stay behind to protect. I need to be kept alive until midnight. That is essential.

Of course the plan goes off the rails. Peeta begins to grow concerned when Katniss doesn't come back and runs off, allowing Enobaria to attack. She throws me into the nearby force field but again does not kill me. Boy, does that woman want me dead! She's probably stunned I made it this far. I linger in and out of consciousness.

BOOM. BOOM.

"Katniss!"

"Peeta! I'm here!"

The kids are alive. Excellent. So which poor souls just died?

I feel somewhere next to me, vaguely hear Finnick's voice. Then a woman cry out, a crackle as midnight is reached, and -

KABOOM.

That was no cannon. And I won't hear another one as the chopper collects me. Are hovercraft supposed to pick up tributes who are still alive?

I guess I'll find out.


End file.
